


Do you dream in color? – Jeongin

by InoruMarufuji



Series: Nightmare [9]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bine you have a VIP pass so feel free to enter, Bine's Birthday Celebration: SKZ Nightmare Series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Disjointed narrative, Gen, Hallucinations, I don't think there's any hope for me, Keep walking, No Spoilers, Puzzle fic, THIS HELL IS MEMBERS ONLY, They aren't specified because spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, lots and lots of it, triggering elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InoruMarufuji/pseuds/InoruMarufuji
Summary: [M̳a̳z̳e̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳M̳e̳m̳o̳r̳i̳e̳s̳|Side Effects][9/9] An unthinkable ending appears. - Maze of Memories
Relationships: Yang Jeongin | I.N/Everyone
Series: Nightmare [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569787
Comments: 23
Kudos: 21





	Do you dream in color? – Jeongin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken/gifts).



> Last warning. This is messed up stuff.

[ **Maze of Memories** | ~~Side Effects~~ ]

_Do you dream in color?_

_Jeongin used to believe he didn't._

_But then again, he didn't really remember his dreams either way most of the time._

_Except this time._

_This time, he dreamed._

_And he dreamed in color._

''And did you remember to pack enough spare shirts?''

Jeongin sighed, falling onto the chair in the kitchen again as he massaged his temples, willing the massive headache down that threatened to overcome him.

He'd heard that sort of question at least twenty-six times during the last hour and a half he had spent in the kitchen and by now, he was pretty much ready to just throw in the towel and cancel his trip because what he had to endure here just wasn't worth the short escape he had been granted.

His hyungs were fussing about him as if he was travelling to the Niagara Falls where heaven knows what could happen, but that just wasn't the case.

Hell, he wasn't even leaving the country, he wasn't even leaving Seoul, so there was literally nothing to worry about, but of course, his members had to make this a bigger deal than it actually was.

Again.

He could bet they were only doing this because he was the maknae and while he was kind of glad about the special treatment he got from them on most days, today he just wanted them to leave him alone and treat him like the adult he was.

He wasn't some sort of child that couldn't do anything on its own and was always dependent on its parents.

''Do you really have to go~?'', Jisung whined, playing with a few strands of Jeongin's hair from where he was sitting on his seat.

Jeongin swatted his hand away, but didn't verbally formulate a reply.

He was done with them asking questions they could very well answer themselves.

The trip he would be taking had been arranged by their company for him specifically after his results from the special vocal training they'd undergone had left a lot to be desired.

It was disappointing to be told that he was lacking, but he couldn't say he was particularly surprised after he'd gotten criticized for his voice multiple times already, so he had sort of just accepted the invitation to the company's vocal training camp with no hard feelings.

The members had protested against this decision at first, time and time again arguing that his vocals were as clear and perfect as could be and that he didn't need any sort of training, yet Jeongin had come to actually been thankful for the company's help.

After the evaluation, he had paid more attention to his rhythm, range and the steadyness of his voice and had begun to pick up on the issues that were present in his singing.

Of course he could argue that Minho would be better suited to help him improve, his vocals nothing short of brilliant at this point, but then again, he didn't want to burden any of his hyungs with something that he was responsible for himself, so he had agreed to take part in this training camp despite all the protests raining down on him.

'You can't go to the camp, you're supposed to relax during this vacation!'

That had come from the master hypocrite himself, Chan, who could pretty much always be found in his studio at night, no matter if he was supposed to be on vacation or not.

Nobody said anything about _that_ , but low and behold, the _minute_ Jeongin wanted to go to a training camp for a few days, everyone was all over him, trying to coax him into staying by blackmailing him with cuddles and his favorite foods.

It always worked embarrassingly well, but this time, he had sworn that he wouldn't give in and actually go through with his decision, no matter what the members did.

''Do you have enough sunscreen?''

Jeongin scoffed at that, but playfully lashed out at Jisung anyway, giving him the reaction he had been hoping for.

''It's December!''

''You never know, you can still get sunburn! In Australia, it can get up to 20 degrees this time around!''

Felix laughed from his spot on the couch while Chan merely smiled in amusement, still busy triple-checking all of the things Jeongin would be taking with him and making sure to pack a lot of unnecessary stuff that he would surely have to leave at the company later.

It had started out with one bag, easy to carry and containing all the essentials for a four day trip, but by now, he had three of them and he didn't know how in the world he was going to travel with all that baggage.

''20 degrees. That's cute. You don't need sunscreen for that.''

''Wait, you guys actually applied sunscreen? For real?''

Jeongin sighed once more, his gaze fixed on the clock on the wall as he willed time to go by faster.

His members could always get caught up in the most irrelevant things and while he liked to join their crackhead behavior more often than not, right now he just didn't have the nerve to deal with it.

The chauffeur would pick him up at eleven and he needed to be ready by then which right now, he was not, as could be seen by the countless shirts lying balled up on the floor where Chan had aimlessly tossed them in search for Jeongin's toothbrush.

''Are you absolutely sure you put it in _this_ bag?'', he asked for the thirteenth time, seemingly getting frustrated at not being able to find what he was looking for.

''For the last time, yes, Chan!''

His voice bordered dangerously close to disrespect, so much that he'd even forgotten the 'hyung' prefix which he was silently reprimanded for with a stern glare by Minho who was cooking up something for breakfast that Jeongin wouldn't be able to get down either way.

He was way too nervous going on his first trip alone and even though he knew the company had invited several other vocalists from other groups as well, he couldn't help but to feel a little pressured.

He would basically be representing his entire group at the camp and since he wanted to leave a good impression on his fellow artists, he had to make sure to show his best side and his best side _only_.

And that included showing off his vocals, his vocals that, unfortunately, hadn't been as stable as he wanted them to be lately.

It also included being on time, something he'd thought he had going for him when he went through the effort of packing in advance yesterday.

But no, obviously, it wasn't meant to be a successful trip.

Jeongin was about to voice that thought to his hyungs when his dream suddenly made an unexpected jump out of nowhere and he was standing in front of their dorm, a black limousine waiting for him, its doors already swung open, inviting him in.

A staff member was right next to the car, a simple envelope in hand, while the rest of his members took turns embracing him and exchanging 'goodbye's and 'good luck's as if they hadn't just jumped through time.

Maybe he was the only one weirded out by it anyway.

''Aww, I'm gonna miss you so much, Innie!''

Jisung ruffled his hair lovingly and out of instinct, Jeongin pushed him away, his expression becoming one of annoyance once more.

''It's only a few days, it's not a big deal.''

He briefly met Minho's gaze, the older seemingly contemplating something in his head, and he could instantly tell that the discussion that would inevitably follow would not be one in his favor.

Minho had been the most reluctant about letting him go on his own and even though Jeongin didn't like to admit it, he had by far the best intuition out of all of them and almost always knew in advance if a situation was going to spiral out of control.

_Him hesitating so much should have really been the first warning sign._

''Thank you very much for participating in the training camp.''

The staff member bowed in gratitude which Jeongin found a little weird, yet he didn't comment on it and just showed a polite smile as he got into the limousine.

The interior looked really comfortable, there was a lot of space for his bags and himself in general, something he didn't really get to experience with seven other people in the car, and there was even a bottle of wine placed on the leather seats as a welcome gift.

He didn't really drink, his job wasn't that lenient after all, but he appreciated the gesture anyway.

The car door was carefully shut and he settled into his seat, ready to just sleep for the majority of the ride since he hadn't gotten to do much of that last night.

He'd been nervous about today, still was, but what had really kept him up had been his members who had come into his room at the most random times in the night to cuddle and almost suffocate him in the process.

Chan had been especially restless, never leaving Jeongin's room once he had first stepped into it at half past one, obviously taking comfort in just being close to him and writing lyrics in the darkness.

He didn't seem to have slept at all, Jeongin had felt his gaze on him one too many times which had always woken him up from the light naps he'd been taking.

Still, as he was relaxing in the limousine, head leaning against the window and his members' voices barely audible from outside, he couldn't get himself to fall asleep.

''What is this?''

_''The participation money.''_

There was something awfully off about that one sentence and he unconsciously shivered, his hands coming up to rub his bare arms.

Weird.

Didn't he put on a jacket?

''Shouldn't Jeongin have this then?''

Chan's sceptical voice. Quiet murmurs and exchanges between the rest of the members.

Something wasn't adding up and they all knew it.

_''Oh.''_

Goose bumps. Shortness of breath. Rapidly beating heart.

_''Where he's going, he doesn't need money.''_

Jeongin shot up from his seat in alarm, already reaching out to pry the door open, realizing this was a dangerous situation.

One he didn't want to be in at all.

His dream jumped. Backwards this time.

''Are you absolutely sure you put it in _this_ bag?''

Chan was frustrated as he kept searching for a toothbrush, throwing another one of Jeongin's shirts to the ground in the process while he cursed under his breath.

Jeongin choked on his irritated reply this time, simply staring at his hyung as a terrifying mix of relief and dread washed over him, almost drowning out his members' casual conversation.

''Jeez, hyung, why'd you make meatballs of all things?''

Hyunjin peered at the stove where Minho was currently cooking up a sauce to serve with what he had chosen to cook today.

He was normally all for chicken on days like this where the members were even more chaotic and hectic than usual, but today he had obviously felt like experimenting a little. Something that not everyone appreciated.

''Wow, I dedicate my life and my time to you kids and this is the thanks I get? You're welcome to try and survive on your own, see where that will get you.''

''We're basically already surviving off takeout all the time though, so what's the difference?''

''Hwang Hyunjin, who raised you to be so rude?''

That actually got Chan to let out an amused chuckle and his features relaxed as he looked back over his shoulder to where his members were arguing, knowing they weren't really serious.

''Well, not me.''

Minho seemed about ready to throw the meatballs at him, but thought better of it after taking a deep breath and merely placed them all on a big plate instead that he set down on the table.

Jeongin stared at them for a good minute, something akin to nausea welling up in his throat.

He felt like vomiting just looking at these things which was weird because he normally enjoyed his hyung's cooking.

But this time, he felt like there was something immensely different about the food Minho had prepared, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what that was.

Not yet anyway.

''Hyung?'' His voice came out shaky, breathless. ''What the hell are these?''

''Just meatballs'', Minho assured him and Jeongin tried to nod only to find that his vision was blurring in front of his eyes, colors blending together and turning everything into a grey mess.

Goose bumps. Shortness of breath. Rapidly beating heart.

His dream jumped.

''Jeongin, hey!''

Someone waved a hand in front of his face and Jeongin blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes to refocus on his surroundings.

''See, I told you we should have taken a break! Hyung knows best!''

''Seriously, you're enjoying this too much. Back in your team, you're still just the maknae.''

''But I'm not _with_ my team right now, am I? So you may address me as 'hyung'.''

Someone steadied him while the world was spinning, but the hands touching him were foreign ones and it freaked him out, his breath catching in his throat and making it difficult for him to breathe.

Where was he? What was going on?

Who were these people?

He was sure he recognized their voices, he was sure they didn't mean harm, but his judgement was clouded right now, so he struggled against whoever was holding him, hitting them straight in the face with his arm.

They let out a pained yelp, releasing their grip on him, and immediately, Jeongin noticed his legs giving out, unable to support his weight anymore as he crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.

He let out an involuntary hiss at the pain travelling up his body, shutting his eyes for a moment to compose himself as more voices got loud in the background.

A true waterfall of sensations overcame him all of a sudden, from the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and the scratchy feeling in his throat to the aggressive beats of a random song from the speakers and the feeling of the ground vibrating from passionate dancing.

Oh.

The training camp?

He opened his eyes, the bright lights in the room blinding him as he blinked up at the two idols crouching in front of him, faces set in concern and by the looks of it not much older than he was.

''Are you okay? Do you need water?''

''I'm fine.''

He actually wasn't, he felt a little light-headed and sick, but he wasn't about to admit that, not to some random strangers in his dream and most definitely not to his own conscience.

''Did you hurt yourself? Let me see...''

Once again, the foreign hands were on him, belonging to a brown haired idol that he was almost certain came from a group called 'Astro'.

Jeongin didn't know all that much about him, not even his name, but before he could ask the boy about it, he saw one of the camps' supervisors turn off the music, successfully drawing everyone's attention.

''That was quite the intense warm-up, I hope your vocal cords are all still intact?''

Personally, Jeongin felt like someone had ripped them out of his throat and tore them apart piece by piece before clumsily stuffing them back into his body, but since the other idols seemed energetic still, he guessed that was just him being weak.

Most of the people here were around his age too, so it made him all the more conscious about his lacking skills. Whether it was singing, dancing or even the little rap battle they had engaged in for fun, he always thought he ranked among the worst and after a while, it had driven him up the wall trying to hit that damn high note in the song he had been assigned to sing.

High notes were his thing, at least usually, but today, his voice just didn't work how he wanted it to and it was frustrating.

''We'll continue practicing after dinner'', the supervisor informed them and a universal sigh of relief went through the room as people started to trail towards their bags they had carelessly tossed in a corner, intending to check their phones for messages or get something to drink.

The brown haired boy's eyes lit up at the mention of food and in that instance, Jeongin suddenly remembered his name.

Yoon Sanha. The foodie of Astro.

''What's for dinner?'', he asked excitedly to which the supervisor just smiled, a simple, disgusting, alarming smile that made Jeongin's skin crawl with how insincere it was.

''I'm not sure, but the restaurant we're cooperating with is famous for its meatballs.''

Meatballs, huh.

Jeongin felt sick all over again, the mere word like a punch to his stomach, but he tried to hide his unease behind a smile of his own.

Sanha just beamed at the man, the pink haired idol next to him only barely able to keep him from bouncing around the room by grabbing his arm harshly.

''Sounds great, can we help prepare them or something?''

Sanha just asked the question like this, including both Jeongin and that other idol in his proposition without either of them having agreed to it, all for the sake of him getting some extra food for helping.

_Maybe if Jeongin had stopped him, it wouldn't have ended up like this._

''Oh.''

He considered it. Smile turning almost evil for a second. Nobody noticed.

''Yeah, I'm sure they could use some help.''

A minor jump.

Jeongin found himself standing in a polished kitchen, the chef right in front of him chopping some onions to put in the meatballs later.

He didn't know where the other two idols had gone, he didn't know why it was just him in that room, he didn't know why the chef wasn't talking to him, he didn't know why his head hurt, but he didn't like any of those things.

He desperately wanted his members with him right now.

Even though it was just a stupid dream, he was immensely on edge, feeling as if something was going to go horribly wrong in a minute, but being powerless to stop it.

He stared at the chef's back and cleared his throat to let him know that he was there and ready to help with whatever.

Even though it was just a stupid dream and he really didn't owe this man shit, he was here to help because his hyungs had taught him to always help.

_Maybe if they hadn't, it wouldn't have ended up like this._

The kitchen was incredibly clean, the various pots and pans all stacked at the side, the counters devoid of any dust or dirt and the floor reflecting his insecure self all too well as he looked down at it.

The walls were white and bare for the most part, save for a picture of a dandelion above the stove and a calendar in the corner that showed the current day of week. Tuesday.

Something was off though.

He nervously wrung his hands, his gaze flickering back to the heavy metal door that he had shut behind himself when he had entered the kitchen.

Why did he do that?

It was almost as if he had locked himself in.

With no means of escape.

Completely at the mercy of this chef.

What a weird thought, wasn't it?

He quietly laughed to himself.

_''How much do you weigh?''_

The laugh died in his throat and Jeongin choked on his saliva, not believing the question he had heard.

It was such a normal question, but in the wrong context, in this context, it was the most terrifying question anyone could have ever asked him because it implied something.

Something he didn't even want to think about.

The chef looked back at him, the knife resting comfortably in his palm as he waited for an answer, and Jeongin cringed at the gaze he was examined with.

It was the equivalent of looking at a fresh piece of meat and nothing more.

His mind flashed back to the envelope Chan had been given.

'Participation money', it had been called, but no, that envelope, that money had been nothing more than a compensation for taking him away, a way to settle the bill for some meat.

It was just like shopping in the supermarket.

This was insane. This couldn't be.

Goose bumps. Shortness of breath. Rapidly beating heart.

This was just a dream, a nightmare, but he was shaken to his very core, his mind panicked to the point where he couldn't even form a coherent sentence anymore.

This had to be a joke. A sick, twisted joke.

There was no way that chef was thinking what Jeongin was thinking.

_''I had my eye on you for a while now. Young meat is always high in demand.''_

That gaze was running all over his body and Jeongin felt so incredibly _exposed_ , exposed and utterly helpless as he took a step back, away from the man and the knife.

What the hell did he mean, _high in demand_? As if anyone would actually willingly... Oh god, he couldn't even think about it without getting nauseous.

_''Which is why it was about time we finally arranged a vocal training camp to get some more supplies. Kind of interesting that the companies don't double-check where they're sending you, right?''_

He couldn't answer. He couldn't move.

He couldn't understand.

He didn't want to understand.

What the fuck. _What the fuck._

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

_''Ah well, doesn't matter anyway. What **does** matter is what kind of sauce I should make for you... Any ideas?''_

The room was spinning. He was hyperventilating.

He couldn't think clearly as his fear was overwhelming him, his survival instinct kicking in and making him dash towards the door despite the very slim chance of him actually being able to get out.

He tried to pry it open to no avail, ripping and pushing at the door handle before he changed his tactic to banging against it instead, all while his panicked breaths were echoing in his ears.

This was wrong and fucked up, so many shades of fucked up, so incredibly, immensely fucked up-...

He wanted to scream.

He really wanted to scream, but this was a nightmare, so when he opened his mouth, he found that he couldn't for the life of him get a single sound out.

His voice was gone, _probably a result of him having screamed it raw trying to reach that high note_.

Tears escaped him, silent sobs wrecking his body while he was unable to do anything except stare at the metal door.

Nobody was coming for him. Nobody knew he was here. Nobody would know.

He clawed at the door, still hoping despite his better judgement that someone would come and save him from the hungry gaze he could feel on him.

But nothing happened.

And it really, really terrified him.

Because he would die. He would die and be boiled in a pot and have his body cut in tiny pieces and--...

And then he woke up.

He was gasping for breath as he returned to the realm of the living, his heart still rapidly beating and body shaking, trying to calm down from the nightmare it just had.

Oh God.

He had never taken himself as the kind of person to have dreams that were this fucked up, but maybe his imagination had finally needed an outlet for whatever the hell deeply ingrained fear of his this was.

Either way, he had never felt this good about waking up and realizing he was safe, away from that kitchen, away from the chef, away from that god awful vocal training camp and instead tucked away in his warm bed.

Minho had been right. He had been so right with his intuition yet again, even in Jeongin's dream he was always right, and he mentally made a promise to listen to his hyung from now on because he really knew best.

He breathed the deepest sigh of relief and brought his hands up to wipe the sleep from his eyes and get ready for the day that awaited him.

Well, at least he tried.

Because as soon as he tugged on his arms, he found that he couldn't move them and the panic set in full force once more as he opened his eyes to the bright light of that kitchen.

He was lying on the cold tiled floor, hands bound behind his back, while the chef was standing behind the counter, chopping more onions that he put in a gigantic pot of steaming water.

Jeongin opened his mouth.

This time, he could scream.

_Felix could barely contain himself when the food arrived at their table._

_It looked so good and he was absolutely starving, so without thinking much, he dug in, more and more meatballs disappearing into his mouth._

_''That's fucking delicious.''_

_''Felix, language'', Minho reprimanded him, reaching for the salad that had come with their order._

_''Sorry, hyung, I just-'', he interrupted himself to pick up another meatball with his fork and Minho merely scoffed from his place on the opposite side of the table, pouring Jisung and himself some wine._

_''Are these things really that good?'', he asked sceptically, earning himself a series of frantic nods from the younger boy who graciously held out his fork to let him have a taste._

_Minho only hesitated briefly before leaning forward and curiously biting off the meatball, chewing experimentally for a few seconds as he got used to the flavor._

_Although he tried his best to keep a neutral expression to not give Felix the satisfaction of being absolutely right, he couldn't contain the happy sigh that left him as the taste registered in his brain, exotic, foreign, **delicious**._

_Noticing the expression of content on his face, Felix shot him a triumphant look._

_''And? How is it?''_

_''Holy shit, it's so good'', Minho gave back, his gaze focused on the meatballs, his body craving more, almost to the point that he worried about his sudden addiction. ''Give me a few more, come on, Felix!''_

_The waiter approached the table, smiling as he bowed lightly._

_''I hope the food is to your liking. It's today's special.''_

_''Yeah, I love it!''_

_Felix never saw the grin that spread across the waiter's face, too busy stuffing himself full of the best dish he had ever eaten._

[9/9] From the inside of madness, goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. Scream at me.


End file.
